


Midnight Clear

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: For the 2017 Daybook gift exchange





	Midnight Clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boogieshoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogieshoes/gifts), [TarlanX (Tarlan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



> For Boogie, who wanted some Chris and JD - this was as close as I could get. There are implications of other relationships, though, and it is Chris-centric, for Tarlan.
> 
> Unbetaed, all mistakes my own. Sorry.

“Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town,  
not a creature was stirring, the sun long down . . .”

Clear, but cold, Chris thought as the leaned on the post, looking into the night. It was one of the few nights of the year that he volunteered to man the jail – and one of the nights when it was busiest. That was all pretty early in the evening though, as the lonely men – and they were all men – drank away their Christmas blues and caused enough trouble to warrant a free bed in the jail. 

Chris couldn’t blame them – hell, until two years ago, that had been his way of dealing with the holiday, drinking himself into a rage, doing things he didn’t remember and only heard about when he woke up the next morning, behind bars and hurting too bad from the hangover to care to know what day it was. 

Now, he was the one watching over the angry and sad drunks, making sure they didn’t die in their own puke before the hangover set it. 

It was something he would never have expected, to be taking care of others on Christmas Eve. And to be fair, he wasn’t the only one doing so. Vin was around somewhere, probably on a rooftop, watching over the town and as far as he could see. He seemed to prefer the quiet of the night, too, or maybe he was just being practical; Josiah spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at the church, Nathan almost always had some emergency to tend to (often involving the same drunks in the jail), and Buck and Ezra took care of the late night patrons in the town’s saloons, which usually meant they were keeping things peaceful themselves. 

Which left JD. While it was his job, as sheriff, to oversee the drunks and the jail, Chris had offered to do it tonight because JD had been invited to have dinner at Nettie’s. 

It hadn’t been the invitation, of course; JD had been invited pretty much every Sunday for the past three months. As had most of the rest of them. Nettie had taken them under her wing in the past months, since Vin, particularly, but with Chris and the others as well, had saved her from the Guy Royal’s plot to force her off her land. 

No, it wasn’t the invitation itself, it was the way Casey looked at JD. Half the time, it was with annoyance and frustration. The other half the time, it was with exasperated fondness. 

All the time, it was the way Sara had looked at Chris. 

It had taken Chris a while to understand why seeing the two of them together made him uncomfortable. Strangely, Ezra had been the one to make the casual observation that a woman in love was one of the most patient creatures on God’s creation. 

Which had been the way Buck had always described Sara. 

Chris had spent too long letting Hank Connelly drive him away. Time that he had lost with her. 

Time that Hank had lost with her, too. Now that Hank was dead, Chris knew the depth of his own stupidity, and Hank’s. 

He’d be damned if he’d let JD make the same mistake. Not that JD had a crazy woman in his past, like Ella Gaines. 

But that wasn’t really the point. The point was that Christmas Eve was a time for people in love to be together. There was something magical about it – proven by the fact that it was almost midnight and the town was still and quiet, the sky bright and beautiful. 

He heard the grind of sand under boots, rhythmic footsteps in a familiar cadence. He smiled even before the newcomer spoke, anticipating the words. 

“Tedious. I don’t know why I think this year will be any different from the others. No one really cares about the game, they just want entertainment.” 

Chris yawned, resting his head more comfortably against the beam. “Yet you gave it to them, making them laugh even as you took some of their money – not all, but some.” 

Ezra snorted. “It was an insult, how easily I could have taken it all. I do have a reputation to maintain.” 

Chris chuckled, the word evoking too much of his past – and reminding him too well of where he was today. “Calling it a night?” 

Ezra settled on the other side of the post. “It’s a beautiful night. I thought I might stare at the stars for a while, perhaps share a drop of Christmas cheer.” He pulled his flask from the inside pocket of his red jacket, easily pulling the cork from the top. After he took a sip, he extended it toward Chris. “To your health.” 

Chris took the offering and drank a good sip, the whiskey rich and warm on his tongue. The good stuff. 

“Reckon JD’s staying at Nettie’s,” he said as he handed the flask back to Ezra. “Pretty late to be heading back to town.” 

“Pretty cold as well,” Ezra said, his fingertips brushing Chris’ before grasping the flask. “Hardly a night to be traipsing about the countryside.” 

“Reckon you’d best be off to bed then,” Chris said, though he couldn’t stop the twitch of his lips, knowing how this was going to play out. 

“Perhaps,” Ezra said, predictably. “But it’s still a bit early, and I do have more of this lovely whiskey. As you are so gallantly doing service for our fair community, I feel it only proper to offer to share my largesse – if you are so inclined.” 

The chuckle rose from his gut, another reminder of his life with Sara – but also, the things one should not, could not, take for granted. 

Certainly not a second time. 

“I’d hate to interfere with your need to share largesse,” he said, standing up. “As long as you don’t mind listening to the drunks snoring.” 

Ezra sighed but he, too, straightened. “It is not an unfamiliar sound,” he said, though his voice was warm with humor. “And I believe there is a bottle in the desk drawer as well – in case we need to keep warm later into the night.” 

“Yep, I think there is,” Chris agreed, knowing he had put it there earlier. Knowing that Ezra knew he had put it there. 

Both of them knowing that this was the way the night would be. 

“Will Mr. Tanner be joining us?” Ezra asked, turning the knob on the jail’s door. 

Chris glanced over his shoulder and up to the roof of the hotel across the way. Against the brightness of the moon, he saw a hand wave. He waved back then followed Ezra into the jail as he said, “Nah, he’s just waiting for the church goers to get home, then he’ll make his way to bed somewhere.” 

Glancing to the jail cells, Ezra nodded. “Ah for the days of Christmas past,” he said, his tone still holding amusement. 

“Done your share of holidays in a jail cell?” Chris asked, moving to settle into the chair behind the desk. He opened a drawer and drew out his own bottle, one Inez had ordered at his request: a cognac that he’d heard Ezra mention once or twice. He also drew out two glasses that he had put their earlier, clean glass ones. 

Ezra joined him, sitting in the other chair near the desk. He blinked as he saw the bottle, a sign of his surprise. He also smiled, a sign of his pleasure. “A fine choice,” he said approvingly. “To what do we owe this honor?” 

Chris snorted as he broke the wax seal on the bottle and poured liberal amounts of the fine amber liquid into the glasses. “Christmas,” he said. He took one of the glasses in his hand and pushed the other toward Ezra. “To a quiet night.” 

Ezra picked up his glass, his smile widening. Then he touched it to Chris’. “To new traditions,” he said, his voice unusually soft. 

Chris smiled and nodded. “Like being on this side of the bars?” 

Ezra chuckled, the sound as warm and smooth as the cognac. “That is a start, yes.” 

Chris nodded, wishing JD the same peace he had rediscovered.


End file.
